


I'll Sing You Love Songs 'Til The Day I Die

by Hazzalovescarrots



Series: Always and Forever [1]
Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff I guess, M/M, i should really just give up on tagging things, soulmate fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:17:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1264417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzalovescarrots/pseuds/Hazzalovescarrots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The star-shaped pendant hangs from a long, thin silver chain around his neck and it glows with the scalding heat that has marked Harry's skin.</p><p>   On a whim, he wraps the chain around his finger and lifts it up to eye-height. The silver star spins slowly and dangles from the metal loop. He sees that on the back of it, a fine line of golden writing spells out a name.</p><p>    Louis, it says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Sing You Love Songs 'Til The Day I Die

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Osage County, Benedict Cumberbatch's song "Can't keep it inside"

It burns.

   Harry lies in bed, in a ball under the sheets. His whole body feels toasty warm, but there is one particular spot on his chest that is searing his skin. It becomes too unbearable for Harry to ignore it and he sits bolt upright. He grabs hold of his necklace and it burns his palm. He hisses in pain and releases it. It settles back against his chest and Harry follows the movement with his eyes. He sees that the necklace has left a burn mark just over his heart, in the imprint of a star.

   The necklace has been with him since he turned sixteen. That is the age when you are to receive your soulmate necklace. It is a special occasion in one’s life and basically sets your future in motion. The shape of the pendant is identical to the one of your significant other. It is unique to anyone else.

   The star-shaped pendant hangs from a long, thin silver chain around his neck and it glows with the scalding heat that has marked Harry's skin.

   On a whim, he wraps the chain around his finger and lifts it up to eye-height. The silver star spins slowly and dangles from the metal loop. He sees that on the back of it, a fine line of golden writing spells out a name. Harry knows this is standard; he’s had the Speech from his mum.

   _The last day before you meet your destined mate, the name of that person will be visible on the back of the shape of your pendant,_ Harry remembers reading in the soulmate pamphlet he’d gotten with the necklace.

   _Louis,_ it says. It’s a pretty name. It’s also more often than not, a boy’s name, which honestly makes relief flood through him. He’s never been one to find girls sexually attractive, though so many are pretty and aesthetically pleasing to him. He just doesn’t feel anything.

   Harry panics. He has one day left. Then, his mate will finally be a full part of his life, in the flesh.

   _Oh fuck_ , he thinks.

***

“So, Louis, huh?”

   Harry sighs and rolls his eyes. His best friend and fellow band member Niall has been on and on about this ever since he’d told him yesterday. So far, the kid has come up with 34 theories on how the soulmates will meet. Yes, Harry counted.

   “Yes,” He relents. “His name is Louis.”

   Niall fixes his snapback, lifting it for a moment to ruffle the dyed hair underneath. It’s a light pastel blue today.

   The two boys, along with a few of their bodyguards, are sitting on a couch in the airport. They are waiting for the third member of the band, Zayn, to arrive so they can get inside the bloody gate. They were both stupid enough to leave their tickets with him and everyone knows how the boy likes to sleep in.

   Niall is in his usual travel-wear; sweats, a print t-shirt, hoodie and sneakers. The silver chain of his soulmate necklace is visible at his neckline. Meanwhile, Harry has a plain gray t-shirt, showing off his abundance of tattoos, black ripped jeans and his blue beanie. His lip ring and eyebrow stud are in and his dark brown hair curls around his ears. It’s the day he is to meet his soulmate; he wants to dress to impress, or at least a little bit. Niall spreads his arms along the back of the couch.

   “So, you’re meeting him today?”

   “Yes.”

   “When?”

   “Fuck if I know. Soulmate stuff happens when it happens. I don’t even know if I want to meet mine.”

   “Why not?” Niall exclaims, leaning forward hastily and causing his soda to slosh over the edge of the cup. Harry crinkles his nose at the neon green colour.

   “I don’t know,” Harry sighs. “What if he’s horrible? And for God’s sake, how can you drink that stuff? It’s eight in the morning. I need caffeine.”

   “What makes you think he’s horrible?”

   “Well, we’re going to America, right? I’m not overly fond of the accents.”

   “Yeah right,” Niall scoffs. “It was you who said in an interview that American accents are hot. And you’ll love your soulmate no matter what.”

   Harry hums non-committedly and cranes his neck to look around the airport. He tugs at the piercing in his lip without noticing and smiles when he sees a familiar sign down the hall. He slaps Niall’s knee.

   “Hey, I see a Starbucks. Come with me.”

   Niall grumbles. “What about our stuff?” He kicks at the suitcases and bags littered around them. Harry rolls up the sleeves of his t-shirt and fixes his beanie.

   “Paul can watch them. Right, Pauly?”

   The broad man huffs and nods, pushing Harry off the couch and taking his place, grinning and setting his hands behind his head.

   “Always the pleasure, travelling with you,” Harry comments, dusting his jeans off and yanking on Niall’s arm. He sticks his tongue out at Paul playfully. The two boys sluggishly make their way to the shop, Niall dragging his feet and Harry rubbing at the tattoos lining his arms and collarbones.

   “Are you nervous?” Niall asks, eyes curious from beneath the brim of his cap. Harry frowns and squares his shoulders and twisting his neck a little, like he always does when he’s avoiding a question. Niall often sees it when they do interviews.

   “What do you mean?” Harry questions, running his fingers over his sleeve.

   “The thing you’re doing,” Niall says. “When you scratch at your tattoos, pull on your lip ring and fix your clothes, you’re nervous.”

   Harry scoffs, but it’s weak. “No, I don’t.”

   “Mate, trust me. I’m one of your best friends,” Niall says and cracks his knuckles. “I live with your sorry arse. I know you.”

   Harry’s eyebrow twitches and he inclines his head towards the boy’s hands. “That’ll give you arthritis.” They are close to the shop now and Harry wants to speed up. The closer he gets, the more he fidgets.

   Niall laughs but shoves his hands in his back pockets. “Bullshit. My hands are fine. Ace on the guitar.”

   “Yeah, now,” Harry replies and steps into Starbucks. The shop isn’t empty, but it isn’t full, which isn’t surprising for eight in the morning. A man and woman sit in a booth in the far corner, completely focused on their phones and two women sit on chairs, gossiping about stuff that neither Harry nor Niall have the patience to listen to.

   Harry is too distracted by the need for caffeine that he doesn’t notice his necklace starting to heat up beneath his t-shirt. He spots the boy controlling the cash register and makes his way over. The boy has a wild mess of curls atop his head. His frame is lanky and he is rather tall. He seems focused on his task of pressing buttons on the register and when they get slightly closer, Niall and Harry can hear him mumbling under his breath and it doesn’t sound like kind words. They see his name tag and it reads ‘George’. Niall is about to clear his throat but the boy cuts him off when he turns his head and shouts towards the back.

   “Lou! The register is fucking up again!”

   “For fuck’s sake, it’s the fifth time this week,” A male voice answers him from the back and a series of loud bangs are heard. “Ah fuck! Bloody piece of shit.” More curse words are heard from the back and the customers sitting down don’t even look disturbed. Harry’s necklace is heating up further and is starting to bother him. He shifts uncomfortably. Fumbling and rustling goes on in the back and George is starting to look worried, but then a boy with an identical green apron to the one he has, bumbles out through the door. He is holding an ice pack to his head and his fringe is in his eyes and he look so frustrated, but Harry thinks he’s cute.

   The boy walks over, unsteadily, to George and sidles up next to him, shoulder pressed against his. Harry doesn’t know why he feels a pang of jealousy shoot through him; he just met these boys. George is quite a bit taller than this boy, though he looks younger.

   “I didn’t even touch it and then it goes like this, blinking and shit,” George explains; running a hand through his hair and huffing out a breath.

   “Yeah, I know,” The other boy answers gently. He bites his lip and his fringe hangs in front of his face so Harry can’t see his eyes. “Same thing happened to me yesterday. We’ll just have to put the money in a jar or something. We’ll call Liam later. It’s fine, Georgie, don’t worry.”    

   Harry makes a noise at the nickname, unwillingly and then shakes his head at himself. Now, Niall clears his throat. The two boys behind the counter jolt and their heads fly up. It’s obvious they hadn’t even noticed the boybanders standing there.

   “Oh, hi,” George says. The other boy perches one hand on his hip and one still holds the ice pack to his head. His eyes are a clear, pure blue, surrounded by long eyelashes. His hip cocks to one side and his eyebrows are raised. Harry can feel his necklace burn, but he ignores it as he smells the coffee.

   “What can you recommend for two boys who have to fly eleven hours for a shitty job?” He asks as he crosses his arms, stifling a yawn. Niall elbows him in the ribs.

   “A new job,” The shorter boy says with a flick of his fringe and Harry grins.

   “Shut up, Hazzeh, you love what we do,” Niall bumps his shoulder. He takes out his wallet and opens it. “I’ll have one of those white chocolate mochas.”

   “Coming right up,” George says. “You want it to go?”

   “Yeah, thanks,” Niall smiles. “We should get Zayn something as well.”

   “Are you kidding me? He’s late, more than usual, even and-”

   “Sorry, are you One Direction?” George interrupts, his face giddy and the sides of his mouth turned up. The boy next to him rolls his eyes, but appears interested, all the same. Niall perks up and his eyes brighten. Harry sometimes thinks the kid is more of a fan of the band than their actual fans. George holds a cup in his hand, pen in the other.

   “Yeah, m’Niall,” The boy says cheerily. “Now, you know what to write on my cup.”

   George laughs and the boy next to him twists his mouth to the side, grumpily clutching his ice pack still. He turns to Harry with an expression he can only identify as sassy.

   “Have you decided yet?” One of his shoulders is raised and Harry can’t help but notice the defined lines of his collarbones through his uniform and the delicate swoop of his neck.

   “How about you choose for me?”

   “Mate, I’m not in a mood for playing games,” The boy sighs. “A box full of coffee cups just fell on my head and I am not beyond throwing a punch at eight in the morning. I _can_ tell you that I make a mean caramel hot chocolate. That’s about it.”

   Harry is liking him more and more. “A caramel hot chocolate it is.” His necklace might just burn through his t-shirt any minute and he flinches from the heat against his skin. Louis rolls his shoulders back, face scrunching up like he’s uncomfortable, but picks up a cup and a pen.

   “Name?”

   “Harry.”

   The boy freezes, absentmindedly reaching up to his chest. His eyes fly up to Harry’s and they are so blue. George seems to still as well and they stare at the boyband member like he’s dropped from the sky. The short boy swallows hard.

   “This might sound really stupid, but may I see your necklace?” He asks hesitantly and Harry’s heart beats faster. He winds the silver chain around his index finger and lifts it from under his shirt. The boy’s jaw drops and in an almost robotic motion, he does the same and Harry feels like fainting. It is the exact same as his, a star dangling on a thin, long chain, the only exception being the golden colour. He gulps.

   “Hi,” He finally gets out and the boy, who is Louis, _his Louis_ , gives a small smile. Then, the ice pack slips from his grasp and he blinks.

   “Oops,” He mumbles and picks it up again. He doesn’t put it back on his head though and Harry can see the small bump rising on his forehead. “Hello.”

   They stare at each other for a while, Niall and George coughing awkwardly, and Harry takes in Louis’ golden skin, caramel brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. The rest of his body from the waist down is obscured by the counter. But Harry drinks in every contour of the boy’s face; his high and sharp cheekbones, long eyelashes, strong jawline and delicate nose, and thin yet plump pink lips.

   Niall nudges him. “Well, he’s certainly not American.”

   Harry closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I will stuff that stupid snapback in your mouth.” He looks at Louis, who is smiling blindingly and Harry fidgets, tugging at the hem of his shirt and scratching at the tattoos on his wrists. Niall grins knowingly. George is either on the verge of bursting into tears or laughing. His face is red and his smile is so wide, it looks like his face is going to split in two. He nudges Louis, hip-checking him to the side. Louis lets his face fall into his hands for a moment, but clears his throat and scribbling Harry’s name on the cup.

   “I guess I better make you that hot chocolate, now,” He mumbles, cheeks red. Harry wrings his hands and doesn’t say anything. He is kind of speechless right now so he just waits until Louis is done, biting his lip and fiddling with the pockets of his jeans. Niall looks like he wants to laugh and Harry just might punch him. He just shrugs, eyes bright and full of humour and waits with him as George and Louis finish their orders.

   Harry sees George sidle up next to Louis and whisper in his ear. His hand settles on his waistline and Harry can’t help but frown and shove his hands in his pockets, coughing none too discreetly. George notices and says one last thing to Louis, before going to get a lid for the cup, grin still on. Louis sprays some whipped cream on the top, drizzles some caramel hot sauce on the top and finishes by sticking a lid on. George hands Niall his over the counter but Louis makes eye contact with Harry, smiles and walks over to the part of the service booth that opens up and steps out. He has both hands around the cup and he sheepishly holds it out to Harry, who honestly thinks this boy is the fucking cutest human he’s ever seen. He takes it and his lips slowly stretch into a smile at the boy standing before him.

   He is tiny.

   Compared to Harry, he is so small. The top of his head reaches Harry’s chin. The expanse of his shoulders are narrower than his and his collarbones are a lot more prominent. It looks like Harry could cover the whole line of his waist with only his hands. His lean abdomen tapers down into curvy hips and thighs, down to golden ankles and small feet. The hands that had held the cup had almost been half of Harry’s and he could have covered them completely.

   “Thanks,” Harry says and holds out his hand. Louis blinks and takes it, shaking it slowly. He hears Niall ordering something else, probably for Zayn, but he doesn’t pay attention. The only thing he can think of is how warm Louis’ skin is and how soft it feels against his own.

   “You’re welcome,” Louis says and a small chuckle bubbles from his lips. He inclines his head towards the cup, but doesn’t let go of Harry. “I figured you might want my number, so…” Harry looks at the scribble down the side of the mug and there it is, a few digits scrawled across the side.

   “Yeah,” Harry drawls. “Yeah, thanks. Again.”

   Louis laughs and Harry marvels at it. He doesn’t even care how cheesy he is for comparing Louis to the sun, because here he is, his soulmate, finally. Niall taps his shoulder.

   “Um, mate, as lovely as this is,” He says. “I got a text from Zayn. He’s here and he has our tickets, so we have to go.”

   Harry jolts, having completely forgotten about the flight and he turns back to Louis with a panicked expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot. I…we have the American tour, shit, I…”

   “It’s okay,” Louis says with a smile, though he is a bit disappointed. “You have my number now and there is always Skype, right? Besides, we’re soulmates. We’d find each other anyway.”

   Harry wants to touch him. More than just a handshake, for sure. But the flight won’t hold forever and the crew is waiting for them. “Right. Soulmates.” He reluctantly turns around and, along with Niall, makes their way to exit. He sips on his chocolate and it tastes really good. Then, he suddenly wonders how Louis’ lips would taste like, and it probably sounds really weird but at this point, he doesn’t care. He shoves the cup into Niall’s hand and takes long steps back towards Louis, who is still standing in the same position he was in before.

   Harry pulls him in by the neck and drags him into a kiss. The boy gasps into his mouth and is stunned for a moment before slowly setting his hands on his sides. The kiss had been hard at first and unmoving, but now they mold their lips together and learns the ways they both move and they brush their mouths over one another’s’ in languid, soft motions. Louis hums into it and fists Harry’s t-shirt, twisting his head to deepen the kiss further. Harry moves his hand from Louis’ neck to his waist and tightens his hold on him while Louis lets his own curl around the thick knitted fabric of his beanie.

Harry breaks away and revels in the look of astonishment on Louis’ face. The shorter boy’s lips are a deep red, they are swollen and he is breathing slightly unevenly. His eyes are glassy and a darker shade of blue.

   “The hot chocolate was good,” Harry says. “I’ll call you.”

   Louis’ eyebrows are raised and his arms are kind of hanging in the air still as Harry walks away, touching his lips and grinning smugly. He takes his cup back from Niall who is looking at him surprised but approving.

   “You smooth fucker,” The Irish boy says, a bit disbelievingly. Harry fixes his beanie, taking it off for a moment to shake out his messy curls and then tugs it back down, his fringe sticking out in the front.

   During the whole plane flight, he twirls the star around his fingers, running the pads of his fingers over the imprint of Louis’ name. As he finally gathers the nerves, he shoots off a text to Louis, hands shaking as he touches the burn mark from it, on his chest that hasn’t quite healed yet.

   _Haven’t forgotten about me yet, have you?_ _Harry xx_ , he sends. He shoves a hand through his hair and silently curses all the habits he has when he’s nervous. For a few moments, he just sits and stares out the window at all the clouds. It’s been about thirty minutes since he boarded the plane and screwing the rules about having flightplane mode on his phone, he decided that Louis was worth it.

 _Uh, who are you?_ Harry’s phone buzzes and he blinks, hearts practically stopping in his chest. _Just kidding! You honestly thought I’d forget? Especially after a kiss like that?_

Harry grins like a fool and it’s his whole body scrunches up and convulses. He sees Zayn eyeing him from the seat across from him and sticks his tongue out at him, while his fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone.

   _I panicked for a minute there, to be honest. Glad you remembered that. It’s not often I kiss someone like that._

 _I sure hope not,_ an answer comes shortly after and Harry wants to shrivel up in his seat. His brain freezes for a few seconds and his eye twitches a few times and he hears Niall’s faint chuckles about it. He flicks him off and then goes back to philosophically staring out the window. A minute later, his phone buzzes with another text. _Your hair is really curly and your eyes are really green and you are very tall and pretty and I love youuuuuu!!! xxxxx._

   Harry raises his eyebrows and his mouth quirks up at the sides.

   _Shit sorry, that was George_ , another text comes in. _But he is right, your hair is very curly._

   Harry laughs out loud and then cringes when a woman from seat close to his shushes him harshly. _Well, thanks, I guess. Get used to it, you’re gonna be spending a whole lot of time with me in the future XD_

_Oh, really?_

_Yep, soulmates and all that x._

_Soulmates indeed xx._

The text for the next two hours, all until Louis’ battery runs out and then Harry falls asleep in his seat, hand resting over his heart, his necklace pressed in-between.

**Author's Note:**

> In my opinion Louis and Harry are soulmates xx.  
> Hope you all liked this:)  
> Tumblr: Support-the-ships


End file.
